The pulse low on his jawline worked rapidly as his voice rumbled with restrained anger. "That's difficult since it won't run on its own and I had it towed here. Now it's your responsibility."
Darcy suppressed a sigh. Why did her customers think she was an all-powerful mechanical wizard? In this day and age with computers running almost everything, she could only do so much. She stepped from behind the counter to look out the window at his state-of-the-art, cobalt-blue sporty car hanging from the back of the tow truck. Slowly, she counted to ten, recalling how her father had taught her humor and patience were more profitable than a careless tongue.
She turned and faced him. "Mr. Hallaran, did you have your tonsils out?"
His brows arched. "Yes. Why?"
"I just wondered if the doctor removed your patience and good humor as well."
For a moment he looked as if he wanted to shake her. Then his scowl disappeared and he laughed. A loud deep laugh that rumbled to her toes. She realized he wasn't angry with her, but at the circumstances that had brought him here.
The laugh diminished to a chuckle as he shook his head. "I'm sorry if I was rude. I never expected to puncture a gas tank. I didn't have a cell signal where it happened and I had to walk a mile in this heat to get one. Then I had to wait forty-five minutes for the tow truck. And you stand there looking as cool and casual as a fresh strawberry."
"Is that your idea of a compliment?"
He grinned. "Not usually. But with those freckles and red hair-- I'm really bungling this, aren't I?"
"You'd better stop while you're ahead." She couldn't suppress a smile.
He stepped closer until she could smell musky male. One pulse chased another until all of them sounded in her ears. She took a step back. Intimidation was one thing, sheer male power was quite another.
He cocked his head. "Look, Ms. Kearn. I'm sorry if I insulted your business ethics. I'm used to city politics and practices. I recently moved here, and Hershey's still unfamiliar to me. That's one of the reasons I need transportation."
He had charm. She'd give him that. And he knew when to use it. But that didn't change anything. "Even if I could fit you in tomorrow morning, which I can't," she emphasized, "I don't have a new tank. I won't be able to get one until Monday morning. I can give you the number where you can rent a car."
Seth frowned. Something in Darcy Kearn's eyes, the honesty in her voice, tiptoed across his soul. The sensation rattled him and he reached for a suave comeback. But one wasn't there. He stared at her until he regained his composure. Honesty? Since when had he met a grade A honest woman?
Suddenly, the outside door opened with a bang.
The man's suit was expensive, the cigar in his mouth imported. His pot belly almost hid his gold belt buckle and his face was contorted with anger. Seth was instantly on the alert.
The newcomer was sweating profusely as he headed straight for Darcy, flicked the cigar from his mouth, and bellowed, "I told you I wouldn't pay another mechanic for something he didn't fix right. That ### air conditioner shut off over in Palmyra!"
Instinctively, Seth stepped closer to Darcy and was surprised by the fragrance of a flowery perfume. Why the devil did she wear that in a garage?
An odd protectiveness he hadn't felt in a long time put more menace in his voice than he intended. "The lady doesn't appreciate your tone or your language."
The grey haired man stared him down. "I don't know who you are, but if you're part of this business I'll sue you too. I want that air conditioner fixed and if it's not done right this time, I want my money back. You people seem to think you can charge an arm and a leg without doing a minute's worth of work."
"Mr. Pickering." Darcy's soft voice cut the tension between the men.
Mr. Pickering switched his gaze to her.
"I know this is inconvenient for you. But I told you the air conditioner on your car was unfamiliar to us. Steve made the corrections he thought were necessary, but we'd be happy to look at it again."
Seth couldn't believe the change that came over Pickering as he stared at Darcy long and hard and her gaze didn't waver. The belligerent expression left his face, and he looked almost contrite.
"All right," he agreed. "I'll give you another chance. But I won't pay three times to have the same thing fixed."
She smiled patiently. "We wouldn't expect you to. Of course, we'll look at it free of charge." Her voice was calm and certain.
Pickering hazarded Seth a glance. "I'll bring the car back on Monday. I need it this weekend, with or without air conditioning." He stuffed the cigar back in his mouth and exited as loudly as he'd entered.
Darcy moved to the back of the service desk. "I didn't need your interference," she said in a low voice.
Seth was as surprised at her tone as he was at her words. Interference? Most women would thank him for stepping in. "He could have become even more abusive than he was."
"I can handle Mr. Pickering. Before he came to us, he'd had several bad experiences with service departments. He's a sales rep and spends most of his day in his car. He needs that air conditioning."
"That doesn't give him the right to be..."
"Rude?" she asked sweetly.
The longer Seth was in this woman's company, the more she intrigued him. She seemed capable of handling any situation. But that didn't mean she couldn't use help. Legal help. In case the blustering man's threat wasn't in vain, Seth pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted a business card.
"If Pickering makes good his threat or gives you trouble, call me. We can do something legally."
She accepted the card and read it. A strange expression crossed her face. "That's where I heard your name!"
"Excuse me?"
"You're a lawyer. You're representing Brad Winston."
"Do you know him?"
"His ex-wife is my best friend." She looked up at Seth, her eyes filled with accusation. "I can't believe you took his case. He doesn't deserve to have custody of his daughter. Marsha has taken care of Jenna, paid Brad's debts--"
Seth cut in. "Obviously your view is biased."
She blew out a breath as if struggling with her patience. Her cheeks were as rosy as her voice was agitated. "I'm a lot less biased than you. You don't know Marsha or Brad or Jenna. How can you dream of taking a little girl from her mother?"
"Just a minute. From what Winston tells me, he has cause."
"He lies. He always has. It gets him out of trouble."
Seth had only agreed to consider Winston's case last week, not take it on as yet. But if what the divorced man had told him was true, he had grounds to fight for custody. If Darcy and Marsha Winston were best friends, Darcy was probably blinded by loyalty. Seth had seen that happen many times.
"It looks like we're on different sides of the fence."
Darcy lifted her chin. "It doesn't matter if we are." Her fiery, shoulder-length hair was incongruous with the overalls decorated with swipes of grease. One smudge smeared a particularly enticing spot on her left breast. "Yes, it does."
He lodged one hip against the desk in a relaxed pose, though he felt far from relaxed, wondering if she was as soft as she looked beneath that smudge. "I'd like you to go to dinner with me tonight."
She blinked. "That's not a good idea."
"Why not? Is it the way I'm dressed?" He felt her eyes as they passed over his chest. Desire pulsed. He couldn't remember a woman's gaze ever doing that to him.
"No."
She sounded a little breathless but that could be his hopeful imagination. "Then what's the problem?"
"I read your bio. I saw your picture in the paper last year when you represented Senator Gotlieb. I'm a small town girl. We move in different circles."
"You mean you're a snob."
"I am not!"
"Prove it. If you don't want to go to dinner, we could drive through town, enjoy the candy kiss streetlights, the smell of chocolate. You could clue me in on the good restaurants and give me a personal tour to acquaint me with t
he town. Maybe I can rent a convertible. How does that sound?" He hadn't socialized with anyone except his partner since he'd arrived in Hershey. Darcy Kearn would definitely be more entertaining and exciting.
"I can't. You're representing Brad. That's enough reason for us not to get...friendly."
He didn't agree. But he never forced a woman to do something she didn't want, and he didn't have time to play games. He wasn't good at them anyway. Strategy, yes. Male-female manipulations, no.
Reaching for one of her business cards, Darcy jotted a number and address on the back and pushed it toward him. "That's the number for the rental agency. Ask for Jed. Tell him I sent you."
She'd removed herself from him. Clearly, she thought he was the enemy. A lick of frustration made him goad her. "Public relations?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you handle public relations for the car rental agency? Drum up business? Or is Jed more than a business acquaintance?"
That brought her clear aquamarine eyes up to his. "Jed owns a car dealership." At his skeptical expression, she said, "We do favors for one another when we can."
"Really."
"Good business contacts are indispensable." The fire in her eyes told him she'd caught his inference but wasn't going to take the bait.
He pressed. "You don't date him?"
"I don't see that that's any of your business, but no, we don't date. Now, if you give me the number where we can reach you Monday, we'll call and give you an estimate and tell you what time your car will be finished."
"Do you do that for all your customers?"
"Any new ones and anybody who asks. In the long run it saves time and prevents misunderstandings and problems."
He should leave. But damn! He wanted to know more about her. "Are you going to work on my car?"
Her eyes met his. "Do you think it unlikely a woman can understand engines, lugnuts and bolts?"
Seth imagined she'd had to defend her occupation more times than she wanted to count. "I've never met a lady mechanic, let alone a woman who owned her own garage. You're unique." And captivating. But if he'd hoped she would distract him from the jar of moving and ease his restlessness, her expression told him jogging would have to do it instead. She wasn't interested.
"That's a new way of putting it," she finally said.
Against his better judgment, he persisted. "What makes you unique, Darcy? Why are you so comfortable here?" He waved at the service lifts.
She looked as if she might not answer. But she must have seen he was truly interested. "This was my pop's garage. For as long as I can remember, I followed him around, handed him screwdrivers, wires, wrenches. By the time I was twelve, I knew my way around an engine better than my older brothers."
"You grew up in Hershey?"
"Um hm. Lived here all my life."
And loved it from the tone of her voice. He couldn't imagine being that attached to any place...or to anyone. Obviously, he and Darcy were cut from different bolts of cloth. Their backgrounds were as different as December and July. She'd already figured that out. He'd do well to follow her lead.
***
The sky was a blue swell tipped with foamy whitecaps. Darcy hoped the unusual and muggy, beginning-of-June heat wave would be short-lived. Letting her back screen door swing shut, she descended her porch steps carefully, clutching the crock pot bubbling with baked beans.
As she threaded her way around the high spirea hedge separating her property from Marsha's, she heard splashing and Jenna's squeals. Darcy emerged into her neighbor's yard and grinned affectionately at the eight-year-old girl sitting on Chuck's shoulders as he tried to buck her off into the above-ground pool.
Chuck Porter was a gentle man with a big heart who'd somehow slipped past the wall of Marsha's divorce-hardened reserve. Husky, with a full butterscotch beard, he reminded Darcy of Paul Bunyan. He waved at her. "Come on in and cool off."
"Yeah, Darcy," Jenna chimed in. "Mom doesn't want to get her hair wet again. You don't care about yours, do you?"
Since her divorce, Marsha was constantly concerned about her appearance. She made sure she was pedicured and manicured, with each brown hair brushed neatly into a perfect hairdo.
Darcy walked to the picnic table and set down her contribution to dinner. "I'll hop in after supper."
Marsha emerged from her back door in a pink and yellow Hawaiian print outfit. Her makeup was flawlessly applied and she looked younger than her thirty-two years. Darcy marveled at how different she and Marsha were, but cherished the closeness they'd developed in the last three years.
When Darcy's father died and his estate settled, Darcy had invested her share in the Cape Cod next door. She and Marsha had become fast friends. And Jenna... Darcy had fallen in love with her at first sight. Her huge brown eyes, her full-cheeked face framed by heavy straight chestnut hair that swung around her chin. She'd stolen Darcy's heart and Darcy wondered if she could feel any more had her own child been born.
Darcy asked, "Can I help with anything?"
Marsha waved her inside. "Sure. There's lots more to carry out. Chuck bought macaroni salad, pickled eggs and potato chips so we could all swim and I didn't have to spend time in the kitchen." As she led Darcy into the back door of the compact rancher, she said in a low voice, "He's so thoughtful, he scares me."
Darcy opened Marsha's refrigerator and took out two liters of soda. "Why are you scared? You deserve to be loved."
Marsha's amber eyes were deadly serious. "Do I? What if I mess it up again? What if I'm not enough to keep him here instead of at card games? What if..."
Darcy had picked up the package of paper cups. She thumped them back down on the counter as she confronted her friend. "Stop it. Chuck and Brad are two different people. Don't compare them; don't compare your relationships."
Marsha's eyes became unnaturally bright. "I have to. I can't make a mistake again. I have to think about Jenna. I thought love was enough the first time and it wasn't."
Darcy's tone gentled. "You're older now and definitely wiser. Trust your judgment. Trust Jenna's. I think she's closer to Chuck than she ever was to Brad."
Marsha nodded. "She adores him. Brad hardly paid attention to her while we were married. Since the divorce, he's been a Santa Claus. Chuck spends time with her instead of buying her presents. He listens to her. I can't understand why Brad wants custody."
"I met his lawyer."
Marsha set out the containers from the deli. "Seth Hallaran? How? Where? Do you realize the kinds of cases he's won? That write-up in the newspaper gave a list. What am I going to do with that kind of power behind Brad? My lawyer's good, but, Darcy, I'm scared."
Marsha didn't want her questions answered, she wanted reassurance. "No one could be a better mother than you are. Stop worrying. Brad doesn't have a leg to stand on. That's what I told Mr. Hallaran."
"You talked to him about Jenna?"
"Not exactly. But I did get the impression he doesn't know Brad yet." She'd also gotten the impression this move to Hershey hadn't been easy for him. There'd been tension around his eyes and mouth. Of course, that could have been from the situation that had brought him to her. But she didn't think so.
Darcy was amazed how easy it was to conjure up his face, his body, the heat that had flashed through her when she'd looked into his eyes or he'd moved close. She took one of the paper cups from the stack and opened a liter of soda. Her mouth was suddenly dry.
Popping off the lid on the tub of macaroni salad, Marsha said, "Lawyers don't care if they know their clients. They want to win. Period. Seth Hallaran's track record shows he's good at it."
Darcy pushed the disturbing lawyer out of her mind to concentrate on her friend. "You have to stop worrying or it will affect Jenna. If Brad comes to his senses, he won't sue for custody. Can't you talk to him?"
"We lost the ability to talk a long time ago."
"For Jenna's sake, you have to try."
"I know you're right. When he picks her up next week
end, I will."
Marsha opened the silverware drawer and collected a variety of spoons, forks, and knives. "I couldn't have gotten through the divorce and all of this without you."
Darcy tipped the soda bottle to pour. "Don't underestimate yourself. You're a strong woman. And you have Jenna. She makes all the difference in the world."
Marsha looked Darcy squarely in the eyes. "Did you ever think of adopting?"
"I've thought about it. But I'm so involved at the garage. The business is important to me and harder than ever to keep on its feet. I don't know if I have what it takes to be a single parent."
Marsha picked up the tray with hot dogs and pushed the door open. "You were willing to do it once."
"Because I had no choice. Gary told me more than once children wouldn't fit into his plans for years, if ever. I should have suspected then he wasn't the right man for me. I should have seen how calculating and selfish he was."
"Love gives us blinders. How well I know. I'm trying to see clearly with Chuck. And if there's hope for me, there's hope for you. You're only twenty-eight. You could still meet someone special, someone who likes a small tourist town and wants to spend his life here, someone who wants children and a family."
Thinking about Gary, her poor judgment where he was concerned, and her miscarriage, still brought Darcy sadness. Too inexperienced to see the warning signals, she'd loved him and dreamt about having a future with him. But he'd never had any intention of staying in Hershey or taking her with him to New York. If she'd told him their birth control had failed and she was pregnant, it wouldn't have made a difference. He'd never loved her. The day he told her he was leaving, he'd made that perfectly clear.
While Marsha went to the pool to call Chuck and Jenna, a face flickered in front of Darcy's eyes. As if she'd asked herself a question, she silently answered it. No. Seth Hallaran was not that special man either. For one thing, he was out of her league. For another, he was on the opposing side. Case closed.
***
Sunday afternoon, Seth sat in his study, reading Brad Winston's file. The man claimed his ex-wife was neglecting her daughter. She had a lover. The neglect Brad claimed was a different matter. He'd said Marsha left Jenna with a babysitter more nights than she was home with her. He'd said she left her daughter in the house unattended. He'd said Marsha forgot about her daughter often. Case in point. Jenna had called Brad from school upset and in tears because nobody had arrived to pick her up. He'd claimed Jenna's clothes were worn and inadequate. And he couldn't understand why since he was paying child support.
Toys and Baby Wishes Page 20